1. Has the crescent gleamed, usurping
The tenderest of his names, when at dusk

2. They appear together?
Men of piety do not deny

3. Such play, however much the righteous frown.
With it he toys, blameless, though not with dice

4. Or sin that merits frowning censure.
He strikes the earth’s face, till you see

5. Every heart leap up, disturbed,
As he curves and dips.